Tag Archives: totally responsible parenting

Girl Talk Thursday – Job venting

I’ve always known I wanted to stay at home with my kids while they were small. We planned for it ahead of time and hammered out most of the details. My 9 to 5 consists of caring for the child(ren). If I can get things done around the house — FANTASTIC. If not? Evenings and weekends it is. When Matt gets home, we try to go 50/50. He takes over with the girls, I start dinner. We do most of the shopping together. He lets me sleep an extra hour or two on the weekends.

Basically? I have it pretty good.

When it comes to venting, the best I can muster up is a little list I like to call


Fighting over my lap. This one is new. If one is in my lap, the other is AUDIBLY DISPLEASED. Even if, in the split seconds prior to noticing the other receiving my attention, they were happily ensconced in independent play. The only solution I’ve found is (aside from when I need to nurse the baby) THERE IS NO LAP TIME WITH MOMMY. Not unless the other one is asleep. Or lost in the house somewhere. Not that that’s ever happened. For long.

Pulling hair. Hands down? My number one complaint about having girls. (Other than the trashy clothes companies seem to think I’ll be on board with. HALTER TOPS? SERIOUSLY?) There is hair all over the place! For to be grabbing! And Roo loves to pull hair. Because Roo loves to EAT HAIR. Vio, bless her heart, runs away from her in terror at times. A ponytail and barrettes solves the problem, but you can guess how often Miss Stringy Bangs allows for that. Sigh.

Hungry every 12 minutes. Both of them. They want to eat/drink/nurse all the time. Roo is a snack-nurser. Five minutes and she’s good to go — for about an hour. She settles in before her naps and bed, but beyond that? SNACK NURSING. I’ve tried to be all staunch and lay down the law and force her to wait two hours, and sometimes that works, but I’ll be damned if I can resist a tiny person beating her head against my chest and clawing at my shirt like a terrified kitten. I AM NOT HEARTLESS.

Vio, on the other hand? In an average morning, she will eat a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, a string cheese or cup of yogurt, and at least one other serving of fruit. Sometimes also a scrambled egg. That is from 7-11AM. (At which point she wants elevenses. HOBBIT CHILD.) None of those foods are eaten together. I’ll let you do the math on dividing the number of hours by the number of snacks and carrying ones and all that BS, because I don’t have the time WHAT WITH ALL THIS SNACK-MAKING.

General unpredictability. I know this is true of any job — hell, anyone’s life — at any given moment, but holy fracksticks, you guys. I never know if it’s going to be a good night or a bad night. How much will I get to sleep tonight? is a constant thought in my mind. Will the girls get along? Will they nap well so we can get out of the house on time? Will Roo scream for the entire car ride? I’ve had to learn to dial my expectations down to a zero. Even after 3+ years of this, I still expect that however things are at THIS moment is how they will stay. Baby is up all night long? Vio throwing non-stop tantrums? JESUS CHRIST, IT’S A LION! GET IN THE CAR! Baby’s sleeping well? Everyone’s getting along? OH WE SERIOUSLY DODGED A BULLET THANK GOODNESS THAT’S OVER!

It’s, uh. Unproductive. At best.

So, that’s what I’ve got. How about you? Mom venting? Workplace venting? Still in college venting? We’re looking for all of it over at Girl Talk Thursday. Play along!


Filed under Girl Talk Thursdays, Motherhood uncensored, My girls, NaBloPoMo

7 Quick Takes – What a week (#6 Updated)

1. Earlier this week, in a fit of desperation, at the end of a very long day, I did something I will come to regret for some time. I played the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack for Vio. I have the soundtracks for most of the big Disney movies of the 90s, when I was a kid and everyone had them and we’d listen to them at slumber parties and do pretend karaoke and watch Aladdin for the 50th time and STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT, it was a different time. Because of this, don’t be alarmed if you hear me proclaiming, “I use antlers in all of my decorating!” I can assure you no ungulates were harmed in the process of making this stellar interior design a reality.

2. We got the Crud, folks. (Any of my fellow UF Alums go to the infirmary and get told they had the “Gainesville Crud”? Then they’d prescribe these bright blue pills that did absolutely nothing and yell at you like you were just trying to get out of your Calculus midterm. Oh, great. Now I want to rant about the college infirmary. That’s totally healthy 8 years later, right?) Anyway, after the excitement of last week’s stomach bug, I guess Vio couldn’t resist illness’s siren song. (It does come with special food and unlimited-ish episodes of Clifford the Big Red Dog, so I can sort of understand.) So she has a sore throat, and my sinuses are starting to drain drain drain, and I see a lot of orange juice in our future.

3. (Warning: Creepy spider picture to follow.) When Matt left for work this morning, he was greeted by an eight-legged critter who had built a hugely impressive web across our front entryway. We get a lot of orb-weavers in FL, so this isn’t particularly uncommon, but the SIZE of the spider was. I’ve never seen a thick, furry spider in the middle of such a delicate web. It’s times like this (and almost any time I take a picture) that I wish I had something better than a point-and-shoot. We had to take down the web (which broke my heart, honestly) because it covered the whole walkway, and no one wants to go outside to find their mailman ensconced head to toe in a spider’s silk. I’ll be perusing the bug guide later today to see if I can figure out what kind it is, but in the mean time, feel free to take a crack at it:


4. In light of our new neighbor, I’ve decided not to slaughter any pigs for a while. You know, just in case.

5. We have three birthday parties this weekend. Three. Hold me.

6. Girl Talk Thursday was AMAZING yesterday. Thank you so much to the participants who made it as awesome as it was. By the end of the night, reading all 30+ posts, I’m pretty sure I came away with a list of 20. My friend Ian (whose wife Lisa borrowed his blog yesterday to participate) has posted a “Dude Response Friday” with his own list. Matt says he is working on one, but I’m telling you, internet, he will NEVER get past Angelina Jolie and Natalie Portman. Once he thinks up those two, his brain sort of shuts down. Does that mean I can have a list of 8?

Edited to add: It looks like Dude Response Friday might try to become a thing … Come on, guys! Let’s make this happen:

7. Because, internetally speaking, this week wasn’t already insane enough …

Three Day Weekend

<shameless self promotion>Did you know letting your 2-year-old do the dishes is considered aiming low? Check it out, yo.</shameless self promotion>


Filed under My girls, Quick takes

7 Quick Takes – There’s a giveaway a’ comin’

1. This child. Roo. Almost 9 months old. This child. IS GOING TO KILL ME.  In the past week, I have counted four (4) ways in which she has tried to harm/maim/kill herself. I have to admit, baby-proofing was my big eye roll at the parenting community at large. Just watch them! I’d think smugly, to myself. Ha! Ha ha! Yeah. Got what was coming to me with this one. Vio didn’t need constant watching. That child is, and has always been, painstakingly cautious. She’s going to be the biggest tattletale in school — I CAN ALREADY TELL. Thank goodness for that though, as it is one extra pair of eyes policing Miss Knockitdown Chokesalot.

2. My toaster oven is possessed. If I pop in my morning whole-wheat-from-the-Publix-bakery bagel and stand in the kitchen, it shuts off after about a minute. Untoasty bagel. Not for to please my belly. On the days I throw the bagel in, hit the button, and get called to duty because “MOMMYYYYY!”, by the time I get back to the kitchen, my once glorious bagel has the consistency of charcoal. Because the toaster never shut off. I attempted to outsmart the damn thing by setting the kitchen timer on the microwave for two minutes, but it seems whenever I do that, it behaves as though I’ve been standing in the kitchen, and shuts off after the requisite 60 seconds. You guys, what I’m saying here is … there is a ghost in my toaster.

3. Our yard, I fear, has turned in to the Jungle of Nool. I say this because I’m fairly certain the grass is tall enough to conceal an elephant in its entirety.

4. A three-year-old who will let you collapse in the middle of her floor during the baby’s morning nap time and play quietly so you can “rest your eyes” is the best kind of three-year-old. This is putting aside that the reason for my exhaustion was being up half the night with said three-year-old. But we like to focus on the good here at the dashoffery.

5. The reason I was up with her? She had a scary dream. I brought her into bed with me and snuggled her all up, and I asked her if she could tell me about her dream. I guess she enjoyed Girl Talk Thursday’s topic so much, she wanted to be a part of it.

“It was just me and mommy. No daddy and no Roo. There were lots of doors. I couldn’t open the door. Mommy was all gone. Where was Vio? I couldn’t open the door because the handle was too small. There was a biiiig bed. It wasn’t my bed, it was somebody else’s bed. I think it had a … monster in it. But I didn’t see the monster’s face, just his tummy sticking up.”

I comforted her and suggested, “Maybe it was Elmo. He’s a silly monster.”

“Oh, no,” she explained. “This was a BIG monster.”

“Ah, maybe it was Cookie Monster. He’s big.”

“You know what, Mommy? There was a cookie on the floor! I bet it WAS Cookie Monster!”

6. We had a bit of a stomach bug situation earlier in the week. Possibly. I’m not sure. Vio said her stomach hurt, and then threw up. Then I PANICKED, because stomach bugs are my kryptonite. She spent the rest of the day in a Clifford-induced haze, but reproduced no further stomach contents. Wednesday was fine. Thursday she wakes up in a snit saying she doesn’t feel like walking, holding her stomach, and OH THAT’S RIGHT, we have a dentist’s appointment this morning! But the rest of the day went on, with no further stomach complaints. Her appetite has bottomed out, but she’s had no fever. Matt and I were feeling a bit icky ’round the gut toward the end of last week, so I’m thinking minor gastroenteritis? Does that exist? Normally we get the kill-us-until-we’re-dead-and-then-laugh-because-we’re-actually-still-alive variety, so I wouldn’t know.

7. A few months ago, I entered a contest and won an Applecheeks cloth diaper. When I didn’t receive my package after about a month, I contacted a customer support representative, who explained they had lost my tracking information and would send out another diaper immediately. About a week later, my package arrived, all shiny and perfect. Less then a week after THAT, a second package arrived. I contacted customer support again, apologizing for the mix-up and assuring them I had no intention of conning a second diaper out of them. When I mentioned I had planned on talking about the diaper on my blog, they suggested I use the second diaper in a giveaway of my own. A GIVEAWAY? Seems a bit daunting for my little baby blog here, and I have no intention of doing more reviews/giveaways in the future, but given the circumstances and their generosity, I’m really looking forward to it. Look for that next week!


Filed under My girls, Quick takes

Subsequently, I burnt the orzo while typing up this post

So this evening I set out to make dinner in a VERY messy kitchen. With Roo’s new mobility, getting much of anything done has been pretty difficult. As we struggle to find the “new normal”, we plod along getting as much done as possible. So the laundry is done, but the dishes? Haha.

I needed a large pot to cook up some orzo pilaf, but I was TOTALLY SHOCKED to find it caked with marinara sauce from dinner last night. I put it in the sink to soak for 10 minutes or so while I set about playing on Twitter tidying up the living room. Vio had been in the kitchen trying to “help me” with the dishes, and I left her at the sink stirring the water in the soaking pot with a big spoon. (This activity? I don’t know why I don’t think of it ALL THE TIME. She freaking loves stirring dirty sink water with a big spoon.)

After a few minutes, I noticed it was REALLY QUIET. I ventured into the kitchen, peeking between my fingers, afraid of what I might encounter. What I saw was this:

Cute pics4

She was WASHING DISHES. And not just the one dish, like I originally thought (and reported to Twitter, because that is so the first thing all the rest of you would do too, DON’T LIE). She did a whole sink full of dishes.

Dishes1 edit

Seriously? I could eat up this cuteness. But where did the dishes come from? SURELY they came from the counter overflowing with disgustingness:

Dishes3 edit

No? Let’s check elsewhere.

Dishes2 edit

Ah, there we have it. They came from the dishwasher. The dishwasher that was sitting open because I ran it this afternoon, and I was letting everything air dry. My freshly cleaned dishes were all coated in soapy marinara water.

Dishes4 edit

Also coated in marinara water? Vio, her clothing, the floor.

And yet … I’m pretty sure I’ve never been more proud. (Also? I blogged this so I can show it to her when she’s 12 and thinks doing dishes is SO TOTALLY LAME, MOM. GOD.)


Filed under My girls, Photo essay